This Is The Beginning
by LovelyMetalhead
Summary: Nathan comforts Pickles back when Dethklok was a mere gamete in the ovarian cavity of the music industry. It's only shipping if you choose to see it that way. (I do.) Rated for language. Title is from "The Galaxy" by Dethklok. Beta'd by my friend sodium-amytal on tumblr.


"Mahm, listen just for one second," Pickles pleaded into the phone. He pulled hard on his hair that was pulled back into a careless ponytail as he heard the condescending words travel through the phone line. Nathan sat at the table in their tiny kitchen with a beer in his hand as he watched the conversation transpire.

It was sad, really. Pickles and his new bandmate had decided to live together for two reasons. One, they were poor, struggling musicians, and two, they could actually bear to look at each other and not be disgusted (unlike how they were with most people). He had planned to have a conversation with his parents about this subject, but kept putting it off with excuses like, "I should get my full drum kit and guitars and stuff in here, where do you think it all should go?" and "You should put a good word in for me to yer bahss so that I can scrahp money together and help pay some of the bills 'round here."

Originally, when Pickles' old one-time success of a band, Snakes N' Barrels, had went under, his mom had called saying that he should move back in with them until he could get back on his feet. He was in Florida at that time, and his parents would arrange for a plane back to Wisconsin for Pickles. But much to Pickles' luck, he ran into Nathan Explosion's ad seeking band members on a telephone pole. Not feeling ready to give up the musician's lifestyle, Pickles answered the ad, and found that he was easy enough to get along with, so why not stay in Florida?

What he neglected to do, however, was tell his folks about his change in plans, costing them $200 on a wasted plane ticket.

Now Nathan watched as his friend got his ass chewed out by his mother over the phone. He couldn't exactly blame her for being pissed; he'd be pissed too if he spent a bunch of fucking money for someone not to get on a plane. He was in poor, though, so of course he would be pissed if he spent too much money on anything he really didn't need (or want, but begrudgingly needed like rent and gas).

"Mahm, I've already explained this to you like seven times, what don't you understand?" Pickles sternly said through the phone. A few seconds passed before Pickles spoke again. "You know what, I seriously don't need to justify myself to you! I'm a grown fuckin' mahn, and I can do what I want!" Nathan just watched as Pickles hung up the phone and let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"You okay, dude?" Nathan asked before taking a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine," Pickles choked out with his back turned to his roommate. Nathan could tell that there was no way that he was fine, however.

"What is it, Pickles?" The redhead didn't say anything or move from his spot. "Are you alright?"

Nathan stood up and put his hand on Pickles' shoulder. "Dude, you're freaking me out here. Say something."

Without warning, Pickles turned around and threw his arms around Nathan, and sobbed into his chest. He blubbered words incoherent to Nathan, though the taller man was able to decipher words like "Mother" and "bitch" and "disappointment," and that was enough information for him to understand. He put his free hand around Pickles, which made him hold even tighter. Nathan really wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't empathize with the feeling of having parents that found everything wrong with everything that he did. He rubbed his band mate's back a little in soothing circles as Pickles choked out more unintelligible sobs.

"Nah-Nathan," Pickles said between sniffles, "What do I do now? I really don't want mahm pissed at me but..." He paused for a moment to think. "Maybe I should just go bahck."

This is where Nathan knew how to respond. There was no way he was going to let Pickles just put himself into a situation where he was clearly only going to feel like shit. No. Not if he could help it. He pulled his roommate away, held him by the shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Dude, no, that shit is not happening," he scolded. "Honestly, your mom's still gonna be pissed at you if you go back. And then what's gonna happen, huh?" Pickles looked down feeling the shame and disappointment already. "Honestly, just stay the fuck here dude. You've got a place here, and we're gonna start this band, and it's gonna be the best fuckin' music the world's ever heard, and you can tell your mom to go fuck herself for all you care when that happens."

"But-" Pickles squeaked out. Nathan held his finger up. He wasn't finished.

"But nothing. You kick ass on the drums, you're fucking talented, and your mother can just go to hell if she thinks she can take that away from you!"

Pickles half-smiled at that. He was glad to hear this from this douchebag that he decided to share an apartment with. They didn't share much of a relationship now, but he could feel something meaningful there. It stung a little that he said that his mother could go to hell, since he did not want to feel like a disappointment to her. But, you know what? Nathan had a point. He's here now, and they were going to kick ass and take names with this band of theirs. And he _was _a grown fucking man. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. He hugged Nathan out of gratitude.

"Thanks dude," he said into his shoulder. "I needed to hear that." When they let go, Nathan offered a sip of his beer to Pickles, to which the redhead gladly accepted. As drank, he touched the back of his head. "I'm thinkin' about puttin' dreads in my hair, ya think that's a good idea?"

Nathan nodded. "Fuckin' do it man," he said, in an almost demanding tone.


End file.
